


Green Baize

by Thimblerig



Series: On the Decks of La Sirena [5]
Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Card Games, Gen, Slice of Life, nothing important happens here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thimblerig/pseuds/Thimblerig
Summary: A late night poker game on the good shipLa Sirena.
Series: On the Decks of La Sirena [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634554
Comments: 34
Kudos: 85





	Green Baize

**Author's Note:**

> // Special thanks to dianaolveira for advice on the Spanish.

Elnor frowned impassively at the five cards in his hand. With his broad forehead and strong eyebrows a frown was an impressive thing. “I will… _draw_ two cards,” he said slowly. 

Seven of Nine, whose own frown could level battle cruisers, spun two cards across the green baize towards him and said nothing.

They could have replicated a table, perhaps, or used the ship’s Mess, but there was a proper card table in the Captain’s quarters so they congregated there. With his chess set and a few stacks of books placed elsewhere, it served beautifully, if a little crowded.

While Elnor was looking at his cards, Agnes discreetly slid a portion of her pile of sweets, cinnamon scented match-sticks, buttons, and Spotted Botanicula seeds in front of the young Romulan.

“Careful, Doc,” purred Raffi under her breath. “Don’t wanna lose your stake.”

Agnes looked down at her current pile of winnings, the second largest on the table, then looked innocently back at the _other_ card-counter in the room. “I’ll be fine,” she mouthed back. Raffi grinned. Agnes picked up a morsel wrapped in virulent orange-and-green paper and unwrapped it carefully, popping the gummy sweet into her mouth. Tears sprang up in her eyes and her mouth puckered.

Cris winced in sympathy. “Don’t chew,” he warned her.

“‘M okay!” she mumbled, and tossed three more of the candies to the centre of the table. “Raise.” Beside her hand, unnoticed, a tall glass of milk materialised.

 _La Sirena’s_ Captain drew two cards and brightened as he looked at them. But he craned his neck around to look behind him. “Sure you don’t want to join in, old man? We can deal you in anytime...”

Picard, settled into a plush chair in the far corner of the room, waved his hand genially and bent his head again to one of Cris's unearthed books.

 _“Bridge to Captain Rios,”_ came Cris’s voice in a cartoonish Irish accent. _"Captain Rios is needed on the bridge."_

Cris sighed, looking at his cards, then held up one hand. “Tag,” he said. Emmet, the Emergency Tactical Hologram, shivered out of empty air slapping the Captain’s hand and slipped into the chair, and the hand of cards, even as Cris left it, shrugging into his dark jacket and trotting out the door.

Emmet looked at his hand dubiously, resting his tattooed elbows on the green baize table and fanning out the cards. _“Guau,”_ he said sourly, raking one hand through his long, wild hair. _“Estupendo. Qué es esto, para niños? Prefiero un juego para hombres.”_

“Call, raise, or fold, Emmet,” said Raffi calmly.

 _“Un juego para hombres,”_ Emmet repeated. He fixed Agnes with a soulful gaze. _“Qué tal el Bridge? Tiene táctica, intuición.”_ He curled one large, tattooed hand into a loose fist and gestured dramatically. _“Sangre en la mesa!”_

“Call, raise, or fold,” said Seven of Nine, raising one ironic eyebrow.

Raffi tapped one elegant, nervous finger against the green baize. “Unless you don’t think you’re up to the game,” she cooed, letting her gaze fall eloquently to the tiny pile of match-sticks and opened wrappers that was the Hologram’s portion.

Emmet hesitated. He narrowed his eyes at Raffi, drew a breath he didn’t need, and -

 _“Emergency Tactical Hologram needed on Bridge,”_ came Cris’s voice over the intercom.

Raffi lifted her head, “There a problem, Cris?” she asked the air.

 _“Nah,”_ the Captain replied easily. _“Just a few asteroids.”_

The ETH brightened. _“Peu, peu,”_ he said, shimmering into nothingness. The hand of cards was caught in mid-air by another Hologram coming into being through Emmet’s fading corpus.

“Ah, right,” said the EMH crisply. “I’m delighted to join you all this evening,” he added, smiling, and scanned his hand.

“It’s your turn,” said Agnes shyly.

The EMH’s smile widened. “Thank you, Agnes,” he said. Turning his head, he asked, “Do you have any Queens?”

Elnor gave him three.

**Author's Note:**

> // Hopefully Emmett’s meaning was reasonably clear from context, but what he was saying (if you’ll forgive my, ah… developing Spanish) was:
> 
> _“Wow. Stupendous. What is this, for children? I prefer a man’s game.”_
> 
> _“A man’s game. How about Bridge? It has tactics, intuition. Blood on the floor!”_
> 
> _“Pew pew!”_
> 
> I am open to corrections from Spanish-speakers about grammatical or spelling errors.


End file.
